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Flash Fiction

Plovember 1: Fiesta!

Before you roll out the chips and salsa, it ain’t that kind of Fiesta, my love.

We begin this year’s National Blog Post Month with tributes to the vehicles in my life. Why? Because.

Leave us go back to the first. His name was Harold. Why? Because.

Image result for 1980 ford fiesta blue

Photo courtesy https://www.pinterest.com/leroua/my-transportation-history/

This is probably the upgraded version of my Harold, a Ford Fiesta. Where this one has a sunroof, mine had no radio (but an antenna), the driver’s door didn’t lock and the window wouldn’t roll up all the way, and the shift pattern was backward to the US (Ford body but German engine? Weird, sorta).

What had happened was, my dad and I scoured the local free paper for a first car for me. There was an ad for a 1980 Fiesta for $500. It was the color of the one above, but I got it repainted in a dark Ford blue with specks and a white racing stripe. The muffler went and Dad and I found a replacement at the junkyard. My mom didn’t want us to come in the house without stripping in the garage; the junkyard had been muddy and we’d both been on the ground to cut the necessary length of pipe and muffler off. We then took over the front driveway to cut off the broken one and affect repairs. Great times!

The best experience ever in Harold: my mom and I drove to New Brunswick (NJ) for something … can’t remember those specifics just now. However, on the way home, we had a blowout. It was dark and we were on the NJ Parkway. Of course, I had no flashlight. I got the car to the shoulder and was going to walk a mile or so to the police barracks (they dot the length of the Parkway); Mom was horrified and convinced I would die in the dark (hit by a car or eaten by the Jersey Devil is anyone’s guess). I made it about 500 feet and an officer pulled up behind me. He not only drove me back to Harold and my mom (by going backward along the shoulder) but allowed me to hold his flashlight while he changed the tire for me. Good ol’ days.

My heart broke when my dad sold Harold during my first years in college. However, I fell more in love with the next car in my life.

Tomorrow, my Asian Norse horse …



  1. DiAnne Ebejer November 1, 2016 8:24 am

    Wow I got you on the first car- mine was a chartreuse 1955 Studebaker President. Ugh! Look forward to tomorrow!

    • AR Neal November 2, 2016 8:22 am

      I would have LOVED that!

  2. djmatticus November 1, 2016 9:07 am

    Funny. We both starred with car in snow pictures. What are the odds?!?

    • AR Neal November 2, 2016 8:22 am

      Well, there is that great minds thing … 😀

  3. Lyn November 1, 2016 11:31 pm

    Aaah the memories of our cars. My present car is 16 years old and, interestingly, is named Harry–Harry Hyundai. Sometime next year he’s going in for a “heart transplant” and a complete cosmetic makeover to make him shine again. After that, he should be good for another 20 years 😀 So much cheaper than buying a new car.

    • AR Neal November 2, 2016 8:23 am

      Good for you! I’m trying to keep my present modes running. Thankfully, there is a fantastic mechanic in the neighborhood now!

  4. Steven November 7, 2016 10:32 am

    I’m a fellow car-namer. This is fun!

    • AR Neal November 7, 2016 10:41 am

      Thanks, Steven! I hope you’ll keep reading 🙂

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